Last Friday marked the last ‘real’ exam of my MBA program. I still have some things to tidy up with my company-sponsored project and a few last electives that will go through the middle of June, but with this exam out of the way, it’s the home stretch for me now. I decided to ride my not-so-trusty bike to the exam because I didn’t want to mess with the traffic and wanted the flexibility to shoot off straight after I handed in my exam.
I stopped at the supermarket to pick up some food for the week and proudly crammed everything into only 2 plastic bags. (I’m trying to be somewhat conscious of the environment. Well, actually, they charge 22 cents per bag and I hate buying them every time I go to the store.) I conveniently attached the two bags to the back of my bike on the bike rack and headed home. I was about half way home when I heard some strange sweeking noise. I pulled over to check to make sure the bags were still there and everything looked fine, so I kept peddling.
It wasn’t but 20 seconds later that I heard something catch and then felt an explosion of liquid all over the back of me. I screamed and pulled over and couldn’t help but laugh at myself as the poor box of cranberry juice lay victimless in the middle of the road. My bananas were also caught in the mess and stuck in the back tire. Fortunately, I salvaged some, but was left stuck carrying a can of strawberry jam in one hand and balancing one completely overstuffed bag on the back of the bike. There were a few snickers and stares as I made the rest of my journey home, and I was right along with them, laughing at my silly-looking self.
Having been hit by a car, run up against a stone wall, and fallen numerous times, you would think that I’ve been through it all with my bike. But no, the bike strikes one more time just for good riddens and used my food as a weapon against me.